Page 94 of The Winslow Brothers

Her eyes search mine. “My…day?”

“Yeah, how was it?” I move my hand higher and higher up her thigh. “Good, I hope?” I add when my fingers skirt along the hem of her dress.

“Uh-huh…” She pauses, swallows, and her gaze dips down to where my hand meets her skin.

“That’s great to hear. I take it the event planning business is still booming?” I question, using small talk as a means to keep her wondering what in the fuck is happening.

“Um…what?” she blinks and looks up to meet my eyes, and I have to fight back the urge to smile.

“The event planning business? It’s still booming?”

“Oh…uh…yeah…I guess you could say that.” She shrugs, and her ability to concentrate almost comes back at full force.

That is,untilI slip my fingertips beneath the hem of her dress. But my hand is still only on her upper thigh. And still too farfrom where she’s most likely awaiting my next move with a wet and wanting little pussy.

Her gaze is back to where my hand meets her thigh, and I have to bite down on my bottom lip to stop a satisfied smile from consuming my mouth.

Oh yes, sweet Sophie. We are about to have some fun.

No doubt, when I do give in to the nearly irresistible urge to make her feel good, Sophie Sage will be dripping wet for me.

“How about some dinner, babe?”

“Dinner?”She furrows her brow“As in eating actual food?”

“Of course. Aren’t you hungry?”

“Uh…yeah…right. Food. Let’s eat some food,” she answers, and she has to clear what sounds like disappointment out of her voice.

I fucking love it.

Sure, disappointing her, of all people, isn’t my priority. But in order to give her the most intense pleasure possible, this state of confusion she’s currently experiencing needs to occur.

It’s a means to one hell of an orgasmic end.

I stand up from my barstool, pull my wallet out of my back pocket, and slide a hundred-dollar bill onto the bar to cover our tab. “Come on. I made a special reservation for us at The Palm Court.”

Last-minute reservations at The Palm Court are hard to come by, especially when you’re requesting for the chef to make thefull Plaza Hotel in-room dining menu available to you, instead of the restaurant’s standard appetizers and small bites with afternoon tea or evening cocktails.

But my career has blessed me with lots of friends in high places.

“That sounds…great,” she answers like she’s not sure if she actually believes her words.

ButIknow it’s great.

In fact, it’s about to bemind-blowingly great.

Sophie

Jude has pulled out all the swanky stops tonight. From the posh drinks at The Champagne Bar to the very special, VIP-esque reservation at The Palm Court, he’s spared no expense in providing me with the kind of evening a lot of women would fantasize about.

You’d almost believe that this is, like, a date or something.

But…I know better than to misplace that kind of expectation on it for the sake of my comfort. The truth is, Jude’s a nice guy with nice tendencies. Just because we’re strictly messing around doesn’t mean he has to treat me like dirt. No, he’s making it pretty clear tonight—it’s entirely possible to fuck around and eat at the same time. Andholy hell on a hot fudge sex sundae,I’m pretty sure I’veneverbeen this horny and turned on while eating filet mignon.

Honestly, the state of my arousal feels like it should be a sin, given the situation. I mean, this restaurant is about as fancy and upscale as you can get, and I’m just sitting here with wet panties and a persistent, throbbing ache between my thighs that makes me feel like I’m inadvertently scandalizing the waiter every time he stops by our table to make sure we’re enjoying our meal.

It’s insane. Ifeelinsane.

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